Like Winter
by Kyilliki
Summary: A story prompted by the question: Can you imagine Caius falling in love? .on hiatus.
1. Chapter 1

_**Like Winter**_

**Fandom: **Twilight

**Pairing: **Athenodora/ Caius

**Author**'**s Note: **The title of this fic, as well as the lyrics in italics are from _Love Like Winter_, from AFI's album _Decemberunderground. _On an unrelated note, the story is initially set in ancient Rome, simply because Caius is a Roman name, and Athenodora is Greek.

* * *

_It's in the blood, it's in the blood.  
I met my love before I was born.  
He wanted love, I taste of blood.  
He bit my lip, and drank my war,  
From years before, from years before._

---

Caius was certain. What he was certain of did not matter; his conviction by itself defined him. The strength of his beliefs only increased with immortality, but his brothers (for that was what Aro and Marcus were to him) accepted it. Everyone clung to some aspect of their humanity; the white-haired vampire had chosen his tenacity.

With his iron certainty, he believed that he would never be defeated, that he would never be destroyed and that he would never fall in love.

Only one happened, but it encompassed all three so well that it could be said _Caius was entirely wrong._

---

He saw _her_ for the first time in Rome, when the city was under the rule of the emperors. Caius' transformation had occurred centuries before and he was skilled at fitting in. His white hair passed unnoticed, and his eyes darkened from a stark, aberrant crimson to burgundy when he had not fed, convincing the mortals that he was merely an unusual human. When seeking his prey, he waited in public places where he would be overlooked, choosing his victims from those who appeared lonely. Killing the forgotten ensured that their deaths would not be discovered.

The sullen, stormy twilight painted the sky grey, allowing him to wander the streets freely. Hiding in the shadows of a nearly-empty forum, he watched people hurry by, his eyes darting in search of potential prey. Two friends sauntered by, then a group of children, then a young woman by herself, walking quickly.

A flood of sensation, vicious and burning beyond imagining, tore through him. He _wanted_ her blood, but the word was far too weak to express the sudden, bestial hunger clawing at his chest. His fingers dug into the stone of a nearby wall, leaving a perfect impression, as he struggled to suppress the ferocity of his desire, while the woman walked away, not even throwing a glance over her shoulder.

He _could have_ killed her, but there were too many reasons against that course of action, Caius thought. She would have screamed, at least once, drawing onlookers. Hoping that they would not believe their eyes was foolish- since childhood, the people of Rome had believed in monsters and gods. They would immediately recognize him for what he was, endangering his family. Besides, she was obviously walking _somewhere_, home to her parents or her husband; they would look for her if she vanished off the streets. Yes, these were reasonable excuses for allowing her to pass by. He did not notice that he was trying to convince himself.

---

When Caius returned home, his eyes still dark, not the unnatural scarlet of a vampire after feeding, Aro was surprised, and sweet, laughing Didyme was concerned. Marcus, with his unusual gift of sensing connections between people, said absolutely nothing, though he did briefly raise an eyebrow, as if he suddenly understood.

---

Immortality gave Caius more time than he could ever have imagined. He had interests, certainly, but they could not occupy every moment he had. As he wandered through the airy villa that he shared with Aro and Marcus, he could not help wondering why immortality was so _difficult _for him.

He did not have a power, but this had not bothered him at the beginning; he was more than happy to rely on his strength and intelligence to achieve his ends. Then, both his brothers found mates who suited them perfectly. Sulpicia and Aro were both curious, interested in learning about their kind, and entirely devoted to each other, in a quiet, understated way. Didyme and Marcus, on the other hand, were so obviously, happily in love that the world did not matter when they were together.

Caius was alone.

With these dark thoughts dancing in his head, he retreated to his rooms, lit only by moonlight. Pulling out a scrap of parchment, he absentmindedly sketched the woman who had walked past him that evening.

---

Somehow, she became important to him. Caius watched her during the evenings, when his brothers were otherwise occupied. He remained in the shadows, far enough to avoid the temptation of her blood, but close enough to observe her

Athenodora, named after a goddess, was moonlight in the form of a woman. She was a silvery creature, with hair like winter, and eyes that were lively and mesmerizing as quicksilver. He had not spoken to her, but already she had reduced him to metaphors. It was a very bad sign.

---

Aro, Sulpicia, Caius, Marcus and Didyme were sitting together at a table, as mortal families would at dinner. Their parody of normality was oddly comforting, though they ate nothing and simply talked. During a lull in the conversation, Marcus looked at Caius and said gently, "You love her." His tone was certain, because his gift was never wrong.

"Who? What? Marcus, I never said…what do you mean?" Flustered by his friend's sudden insight, the white-haired vampire could not formulate an answer.

Didyme's smile was bright as sunlight. "I did not know! Marcus, Caius, why did you not tell me? Who is she?" Her warmth and joy spread palpably through the room. Didyme loved it when other people were as happy as she was.

"Let Caius speak," Sulpicia's voice was gentle and calming as she looked at her brother-in-law, who looked as though he wished to melt away. Aro took her hand gently, "You are right, my dear. Please, brother, tell us." As always, their leader sounded quietly interested, with hidden authority behind his words.

"Her name is Athenodora." It felt like a release, finally saying it out loud. "Her blood smells delicious to me, but I… I do not know. I like listening to her and seeing her smile, and…" His voice was surprisingly fractured and tentative. "She is mortal." It was an awkward confession, but it was the most that could be expected from him

Didyme laughed, "Oh, I am so happy for you, Caius! I cannot wait to meet her!" Her voice was like silver chimes, and Marcus looked at her affectionately. Her enthusiasm was more than contagious, making Sulpicia smile too, already anticipating a new addition to the family. However, everyone's eyes turned to Aro, waiting for his opinion.

"Dear brother, you know the rules of our people," he said quietly. "If you love her, we _must_ change her. You cannot explain what you are, and what she will become. It is too risky, letting her know about us before she a vampire. Are you willing to turn her on nothing more than blind faith? She may not love you, Caius."

The white-haired vampire sighed softly and nodded. His decision was clear.

---

That night, a young woman with silvery-gold hair slept for the last time. Her dreams were restless and troubled as a slender figure with moon-bright hair and stormy, burgundy eyes crept into her room, lifted her from her bed and held her sleeping form close, then left with her as silently as he had come.

---

"I have made up my mind. Change her, Aro. Please."


	2. Chapter 2

**Like Winter**

**Fandom: **Twilight

**Pairing: **Athenodora/Caius

**Author's Note:** Here is the second chapter. The next update may not come for a while, because university is a strange and hectic place. Again, the credit for the italicized lyrics is given fully to AFI; the words are from their song _Silver and Cold, _found on the album _Sing the Sorrow._

* * *

_Light, like the flutter of wings,  
Feel your hollow voice rushing  
Into me as you're longing to sing.  
So I, I will paint you in silver.  
I will wrap you in cold._..

---

The pain began at her wrists and neck, then spread slowly through her, each heartbeat accompanied by throbbing, ripping agony. In moments, it became nightmarish; she could neither scream nor move. She could see only blackness, and hear her own ragged breathing as her body was torn apart.

---

Athenodora was silent and still, eyes glazed and unseeing. The only visible signs of her anguish were the deep scratches in the wood of the bedposts, gouged by her fingernails, now broken and bloody. Caius sat quietly beside her, his face obscured by hair, trying to hide the emotions that were certainly apparent in his eyes. Occasionally, he smoothed her sweat-drenched hair away from her face, not daring to touch her more than necessary for fear of hurting her further. He understood her pain, and would gladly have suffered it in her stead, but there was a current of joy running through him, sharp and electric. She would be _his_ soon.

After four days of soundless, twisting pain, Athenodora went limp. Her gasping breaths had stopped and finally, she seemed nearly at peace. Fragile and broken, she lay motionless, her bright hair spread in an aureole across the pillows. Caius slipped onto the bed and gathered her into his arms, marvelling. The moonlight made her glow faintly, the radiant incandescence of a vampire, though her body was still warm. He could not hear a heartbeat, but there were wet tear-streaks down her cheeks. This moment, when she was caught between death and immortality, undid him entirely and he buried his lips in her hair.

"My darling girl, you will be alright. It will not hurt anymore." While his hands tenderly explored her face, he continued whispering endearments. Of course, he had never had the opportunity to use endearments before; inevitably, some of them were dreadful enough to make him grateful that she would remember nothing of this encounter. Still, as he cradled her slender form, trying to tell her he loved her without using words, she smiled (if that was not a trick of the moonlight) and seemed to cuddle closer.

---

"What do you mean, you cannot speak to her? Caius!" Didyme's voice was exasperated. "She will be awake in minutes. Do you not wish to be there?" The white-haired vampire shook his head, his scarlet eyes wide, "No, I cannot. I cannot explain anything to her. What can I _say_? That I'm fond of her, but I put her through that agony?" The smiling little vampire sighed, "You are _fond_ of her? I should hope not. If you do not tell Athenodora that you love her, I will." He gave her a desperate, pleading look and Didyme relented, "Very well Caius, I will explain everything to her. Then I will tell her exactly where to find you."

---

Athenodora's first sensation upon awakening was _scent. _Someone was offering her a goblet that contained a murky red liquid. Her first thought was that she should be disgusted at the sight of blood being offered like wine. Her second was that she had never been so terribly, achingly thirsty. After draining the blood and staining her mouth crimson, she looked at the curly-haired woman with incongruously kind scarlet eyes standing by her bed.

"You will likely not believe what I will tell you, Athenodora, but I ask you to listen," Didyme said, taking the newborn's hand.

---

She looked at herself, her fingers (now with perfect, arched fingernails) tracing the contours of her face. There was neither reverence nor joy in her touch; she explored dispassionately.

"You are beautiful," Didyme said soothingly, her words sincere. Athenodora's eyes were suddenly wild, "That justifies _nothing!_ I never asked for this, I never wanted this life. I do not want to kill people so I can survive. Someone turned me into a _monster_ because he thought he loved me?" Her voice shook, and her shoulders bent inwards, as she tried to contain sobs (though she had not wept since she had been a little child). The dark-haired vampire hugged her gently, allowing her gift to encircle the new-born with quiet happiness. As expected, it calmed the silver-haired woman, but it did not cheer her. "You will feel better after a bath." Didyme offered Athenodora a hand and led her away.

---

As she brushed Athenodora's hair, Didyme was uncharacteristically worried. The new-born was in some sort of shock, wavering between grief and rage. In the bath, she had wrapped her arms around her knees and simply sat in the warm water, her face entirely obscured by damp hair. She was equally silent as the little vampire laid out a tunic for her. Didyme soon realized that Athenodora was not simply speaking out of fear or surprise; perhaps she was genuinely disturbed by her immortality.

"There, you are dressed." Didyme smiled, tucking the tall, slender vampire's hair behind her ears. "Now, come with me, and we will speak to Caius." A low, furious snarl tore itself from Athenodora's throat.

---

Caius paced in a small, uncharacteristically bare room. He had not been certain where he should meet with Athenodora; his chambers would be both uncomfortable and overwhelming, and being outside would simply startle her. Finally, he had chosen the empty room because there was nothing for a newborn to break.

If he could breathe, his breath would have caught when he saw her. She was lovely, tall and willowy, with long, wintery hair falling over her delicate features. She was also brutally, viciously angry.

"_Explain."_ The one word was jagged and brittle as broken crystal.

"I…I do not fully understand why I did this, Athenodora. I saw you, and there was something about you that… that _struck_ me…" He could not explain himself fully, tripping over his words, and she hissed harshly.

"You do not _know_ why you did this? You took away my family, you took away everything I love, in the name of the gods, you even took away my ability to eat and sleep, and you are not sure _why?_ I… I…" Her eyes livid, she threw herself at his throat, teeth bared, the first instinct of any newborn. Her heart was not in it, though, he could tell, as though she feared that using her full strength would loosen all ties she still had to her humanity.

Instead of pushing her away, he caught her in an embrace. She was slender and fragile in his arms, but somehow, she fit perfectly. Her hair smelled faintly of apricots, he noticed, as his hand stroked it out of its own volition. For one fleeting moment, she was still, before breaking away, a growl contorting her face.

"You expect me to be grateful? You expect me to love you? Your audacity is beyond comprehension!" Standing a few metres apart, her eyes burned into his, her hands curled into fists.

Trying to understand her, he said, "Athenodora, most mortals would gladly kill for beauty, for wealth, for immortality. You have all three now. What more could you have asked for?"

"A choice." She turned sharply and walked out of the room, her bare feet silent on the smooth marble floor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Like Winter**

**Fandom: **Twilight

**Pairing: **Athenodora/Caius

**Author's Note: **The third chapter is here, written at odd hours and published sooner than I had anticipated. Hopefully it is not filled with typos and characters being out-of-character. One more chapter to go, I think, but again, I am not sure when I can update. All lyrics belong to AFI (who have rapidly become my muse for this fic), from _Love Like Winter, _found on their album _Decemberunderground. _Remember, reviews are wonderful things.

* * *

_Warn your warmth to turn away,  
Here it's December, every day. _

_Press your lips to the sculptures,  
And surely you'll stay. _

_Love like winter…  
_

---

Days passed, then weeks. The coven became used to the silent, silvery vampire who drifted from room to room like a wraith. She was neither happy nor sad; her expression was carefully neutral, unless she faced Caius.

When she approached the white-haired man, her eyes would widen and her lip would curl back, revealing sharp teeth in a low, furious growl. Caius was something of an expert on anger, having spent his life, then his after-life (or death, or half-life, whichever term applied) in the throes of that particular emotion, and he was forced to admit that her rage carried a certain grace. He admired the angle of her neck and the light in her eyes. There was some irony in the fact that he found her most beautiful when she was most dangerous, but he was never one for noticing irony.

Caius did not notice many things, the reason behind emotions included. When Athenodora extended her hand to Aro, giving him every memory and thought without a word of protest, he did not understand. It was only a while later, when he saw her in the gardens, tearing up flowers (mindless childish destruction), that he came to a realization. The rage only masked despair.

Caius did not know how to comfort people in general (his mercurial, broken beloved in particular). Instead, he hunted with her.

---

There was something terrifying about the woman, young and crimson-eyed, in her filmy tunic, her bruise-coloured lips and perfect, alabaster skin streaked with blood not her own. She was absolutely lovely when she hunted, moving like silver lightning between the trees, but haunting nonetheless.

Caius watched Athenodora hunt with a wary eye; she was surprisingly guarded for a newborn, but sooner or later, he knew she would trip. He wished she would do _something_, with the true, uncontrolled violence of a vampire, so he could comfort her afterwards. His desperation was obvious to him, but it did not matter; he was too infatuated with the slender, wide-eyed woman.

She no longer vocalized any remorse over killing to feed, which to his mind could be considered an improvement. Still, when she looked up at him, crouching beside the corpse of her most recent victim, she looked both like a monster, and a lost little girl.

---

The summer stars were bright crystals caught in the vaulting darkness. Athenodora, who had loved looking at the sky since she was a child, slipped outside hoping that she was unnoticed. Because she was an unstable newborn, someone would surely accompany her if they knew where she was. For once, she did not want companionship or attempts at understanding; solitude suited her better now.

Lying down, she ignored the prickling of the grass and turned her eyes upwards. If there was any consolation to be found in her immortality it was this view of the stars. With her improved sight, they were clearer, sharper, so much lovelier than she remembered. _No matter what happens, there will always be stars. _The words appeared in her head suddenly; she was unsure whether they were a memory, a remembered poem, or perhaps simply her own invention. Nonetheless, she was comforted.

Eventually, Caius found her. He was always looking for her, because his brothers would hold him responsible for whatever she did in his absence, and because he wanted to be near her. She looked peaceful, for once, her hair tousled as though she had been sleeping, and her scarlet eyes unusually calm. For a moment, he contemplated simply watching her from a distance but quickly decided against it; she would notice and become angry at being observed.

He lay down beside her, saying nothing. Resigned, she neither moved nor spoke, just gave him a curious glance, then resumed gazing at the sky. He put a hand on her shoulder, an awkward gesture but a caress nonetheless. He expected her to flinch away, as she always did, but this time, she covered his hand with hers.

"Athenodora…" He was unsure what he wanted to say, so he let his voice trail off.

"If you are planning to compare my eyes, my hair or any other part of me to the stars, I will hurt you." There was a trace of laughter behind her words, for the first time.

He could not help smiling, simply because she was happy (or at very least, happier).

---

Their first kiss was in the middle of an argument.

Somewhere between her cursing him and his indirect anger, she was in his arms. The kiss was raw passion, searing and tearing, almost painful in its intensity. Love did not factor in; rage, lust and surprise were equally powerful emotions.

Somehow, her hands were tangled in his hair, pulling his mouth down, her teeth sharp against his lips, newborn desire and want in her touch. Suddenly, she realized what she was doing and broke away, running from the room and leaving him gasping.

---

Athenodora sat outside, her face obscured by a cascade of hair the colour of moonlight. This was her usual defence against internal or external turmoil; it was so easy to hide herself from the world.

The same thoughts ran rings inside her head. She did not know what she had been thinking, what had prompted her actions. Even worse, she did not understand why it had felt... not entirely peculiar. (It had felt right, but she was certainly not going to admit it for a while).

Caius _interested _her. His reason for changing her was selfish at best, she knew, but his honesty about it struck her as unusual. His bluntness in itself was surprising; unlike the rest of her new family, he did not have a gift to hide behind. Whether it was this or his previous personality that prompted his forthrightness, she did not know, but somehow, she was drawn to him because he concealed nothing about himself. His flaws were easy to find (anger, impatience and inflexibility being only a few), but he acknowledged them easily. With a bit of introspection, she could effortlessly see that she mirrored his shortcomings. Perhaps that was what bound them together, she decided; they were similar enough for understanding, but just different enough to confound each other.

She remained in the garden for the rest of the afternoon, interrupted only once. Marcus walked by, glanced at her quickly, then smiled as though he suddenly knew something that she did not.

---

She walked into Caius` chambers that night, the moon making her glow, transforming her into a creature of light and silver. He did not say anything as she cuddled onto his lap, but his fingers traced butterfly-light patterns on her stomach. She laughed quietly, and he was reassured.

"Why?" The question was soft, not pressing, because he did not expect an answer (nor did he want one).

"I am tired of being cold and sad and lonely." It was nothing more than a whisper and his heart broke (once again. Breaking different parts of him could very well be her gift). He held her tightly, kissing her throat and her funny, sharp collarbones, anything, _anything_ to see her smile again.

Somehow, they ended up in his bed, two white figures tangled in white sheets, the only colour the crimson of their eyes. Later, hours later, when she was still arched against him, a purr of contentment on her lips, he closed his eyes and lay still, holding her close and inhaling her scent. She was human enough to think that his senses were dulled when he appeared to be sleeping, so she whispered _Love you, Caius._

He heard, of course, and his smile was so wide that she laughed and pushed him.

"You cheated," she said softly.

"Who said I ever played fairly?" He whispered a kiss against the corner of her bruise-coloured lips.

"Who said it was a game?" She pinned him down, so she could look into his eyes. He ran a hand down the curve of her spine, and said, "You know I love you, Athenodora."

She grinned crookedly, biting his lower lip with her sharp little teeth.

---


	4. Chapter 4

* * *

**Like Winter**

**Fandom:** Twilight

**Pairing: **Athenodora/ Caius

**Author's Note:** The fourth part of the fic has appeared, slightly later than I had hoped, and slightly shorter. I intended this chapter to be the last, but apparently this story is destined to become the fic that never ends. A thank-you to those that reviewed the previous chapters. The italicized lyrics are from _This Time Imperfect_ found on AFI's album _Sing the Sorrow._

* * *

_There are no flowers, no, not this time,  
There will be no angels gracing the lines,  
Just these stark words I find…  
I cannot stay here, I cannot leave,  
Just like all I loved, I'm make-believe_

Athenodora was easy to love. When her fury had melted away, replaced with cautious affection, she began revealing glimmers of her former personality. Behind the bloodlust, the rage and the surprise, was a young woman with a sharp tongue and a sharper mind, masked by a smile as beautiful as moonlight.

She was awed by her new senses, the colours she could see and the textures she could feel. Her wonder and joy were palpable, even through Caius' thousand years of cynicism and sarcasm.

"Look!" Her voice was silvery, so happy, as she pointed to the bright rays of sunrise dancing on her skin or fireflies glimmering near the trees. He could not help smiling whenever she grabbed his hand and pulled him outside, just so he could see what she saw, and share her feelings.

Then, she found out exactly how fast she could run and how high she could climb. He could not drag her indoors after that. For once, he was grateful that they lived so far from humans, allowing her to spend her time outside during the day.

"Did you never play outside as a child?" he asked as they sat together on a tree branch, high above the ground. She had only told him about fragments of her childhood, and he had not pressed her. She shrugged, "I lived in a city. There was nowhere to play." Leaning back, she laughed as he caught her in his arms and kissed her forehead. "What was your childhood like?"

He was amazed that she asked. He was used to Aro and Marcus knowing everything from a touch or a glance; being _asked_ was a novelty. "I do not remember very much," he said quietly. "I did not have many friends and my family was frightened of me." He indicated his white hair and said, "My eyes were pink and my hair and skin were so pale that my people thought that I was a demon. That does not make for a pleasant childhood."

She snuggled close, "I like you hair. We match." His hand closed over hers, a light, cool touch. "You are comforting to have around, you know," he said gently.

"One of my many charms," she replied. They were never particularly talkative.

---

Time passed strangely, both rapidly and slowly, as it always did for vampires. They were no longer just Aro-and-Sulpicia, Marcus-and-Didyme and Caius-and-Athenodora. They had a collective name now, always spoken with a mixture of fear and respect: _Volturi. _

Volterra was their home now, a strange city of winding dark stone, beautiful and labyrinthine. As Caius explained it, the city had belonged to the Volturi for a thousand years, but the region was so sparsely populated that they lived closer to Rome, simply for the convenience of hunting. Now, it was easier to remain in Volterra, unseen and ruling from a distance.

---

_Something had happened to Didyme._

That was the most anyone said: one tentative, hesitant sentence, because otherwise Marcus' eyes became terrifyingly hollow. Her remains were found in a near-empty room within the tangled corridors of the castle. Athenodora's memories of the event were nothing more than disjointed flashes and glimpses.

She remembered the smell most of all, the acrid, bitter stench of the ashes. It haunted her, clinging to her hair and clothes, impossible to wash off for days, its presence imagined for weeks. As soon as she entered the room, her arms were immediately around Sulpicia, turning her friend away. "Don't look there, Sulpicia, look at me!" she hissed. The ashes were still smouldering; here and there she could see fragments of bone, singed hair and bits of splintered fingernails. The golden-haired vampire did not need to see it.

She recalled trying to pull Sulpicia away, hearing the pounding of footsteps, Aro and Caius shouting orders. Most of all, she could remember Marcus' scream, an inhuman snarl of heartbreak and tortured grief that seemed to echo for ever.

Caius found Athenodora in their room hours later, sitting on the bed, a blanket draped around her slender shoulders, wine-coloured eyes wide and blank. He sat down beside her, and though she flinched away from the smell of smoke that clung to him like a cloak, she finally cuddled close, resting her head on his shoulder.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice quiet, almost emotionless.

"Aro blames the Romanians," he said, smoothing her hair. He was so _grateful_ that she was safe, his beloved mate, not capable of imagining living without her.

She moved suddenly in his arms. "The Romanians? A Romanian vampire managed to enter a guarded castle entirely unnoticed, wander through most of it, find one young woman who did not look frightening, kill her, then leave unseen? Caius, do you believe that?" Her eyes were fiery, burning with sudden anger that was second nature to her.

"Two of the guards were not at the gates."

Her face was grim, "Which two? Allow me to guess- the least gifted and the easiest to replace. They are dead now, yes?" It would explain the stench of smoke around him.

He nodded silently.

"Someone is lying about Didyme's death. Why is Aro letting it happen? She was his sister!" Her words were a rapid staccato, as they always were when she was furious.

Suddenly Caius tightened his arms around her, his palms encircling her face, making her look directly into his eyes. "Athena, love, _do not say anything_. I do not believe Aro either, but that does not mean I can accuse him." She opened her mouth to say something, but he slipped a gentle finger over her lips. "Listen- Marcus wanted to leave our coven. Look at the consequences of that. What do you think will happen if either of us speaks against Aro?" He buried his lips in her hair, "Please, stay safe." He spent the rest of the night holding his mate soothingly, unwilling to let her go even for a moment.

Didyme's presence seemed to linger for years; her scent, the echo of her laugh, the flowers she loved all serving as reminders. Centuries later, the shadows had not left Marcus' eyes. They pitied him, of course, but nobody mentioned his mate again.

---

* * *

Reviews are wonderful things :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Like Winter**

**Fandom:** Twilight

**Pairing:** Athenodora/Caius

**Author's Note:** Behold another chapter. This fic will not stop growing, (coincidentally, the word-count increases, creating an inversely proportional relationship with my grades.) No AFI song reference this time, because it is _ridiculously late_. Reviews are appreciated as much as (or even more than) sleep, which should say something.

* * *

"I miss her," Sulpicia said quietly, her eyes downcast as she tended to the delicate, yellow-gold flowers Didyme had loved, which were now grown as the only visible tribute to her.

Athenodora said nothing. Remembering Marcus' mate was somewhere between disobedience and treachery, but that was not what held her tongue. She mourned the sweet little vampire quietly and personally, hiding her own loss because it was nothing compared to Marcus'.

Suddenly, recklessly, she asked, "Did Aro find out what happened to his sister?" The golden haired woman shrugged, "He is still trying."

_Sulpicia is an idiot_, seethed a voice in Athenodora's head, unexpectedly sharp._ She should know that Aro will discover anything and everything he wants to. The only reason we don't know anything about Didyme's death is because it suits him to have us not know. _Perhaps her mate's way of thinking was affecting her, or perhaps she was simply frustrated.

From that day onward, the youngest member of the Volturi began to notice just how fractured and broken her family (_coven, not family_, she corrected herself) had become.

---

"No, Athenodora, you cannot unite your pawns to overthrow the king," Caius was looking at the chessboard with something between exasperation and amusement.

"Why not? It makes the game more interesting," his mate said with a grin, happily moving a pawn forward, one step closer to turning her side of the board into a republic.

"You don't think chess is _interesting?_ Athena, you read scrolls about taxation in Greek; you have no boredom threshold," he broke off, mumbling something about her general insanity.

"But you still love me," she chanted, slipping her feet into his lap.

"Unfortunately," he muttered, gently tickling her bare toes.

"Let's finish the game," she suggested, knowing exactly how distracting she was.

"Are you going to curb your latent rebellious tendencies and play against me instead of establishing democracy?" he asked. She nodded vehemently, returning her pawns to their original positions.

Less than twenty moves later, she won.

---

Later, she put the chess pieces away, one by one. _Black and white_, she thought, slipping a pawn back into its case. _That is how Aro sees it. And to him, it's a game, with players to be lost and players to be taken._

She picked up another piece, carved to look like a warrior, which moved across the board in strange, unpredictable jumps. _Caius_, she thought, _powerful and volatile. _The piece could win the game, but the game could continue without it just as well, and the thought chilled her. _What does that make me? _she wondered.

Not weak enough to be a pawn, not gifted or important enough to be anything else, she did not have a place in the game, yet. Turning her eyes upwards, she breathed a quick prayer to whatever gods would listen to an immortal, who was both centuries old and eighteen. _Please, please let me remain on the sidelines, unnoticed…I do not want to play…_ The words were a jumble, as they always were when she was frightened.

"You're far away, aren't you?" Caius murmured, as she stiffened in his unexpected embrace.

"Just thinking," she replied lightly, depending on her mate's lack of emotional intuition to let the lie slip by unnoticed.

"You looked almost-," he paused, searching for a word, "-lost. I haven't seen you look like that since you were turned. What's wrong?" Gentle fingers brushed tendrils of hair away from her face.

"It's fine," she murmured, as he rocked her. "I'll be alright."

"I love you, kitten. I know it doesn't help much," he told her quietly, an offering and an apology.

She turned, burying her face in his shoulder, reminded for a moment thather Caius was still there, not entirely erased by the demon that returned to Volterra from battlefields, his cloak streaked with blood and ash, eyes black and sharp as obsidian.

---

It began, as these things always did, with a meeting between the three brothers, though that term did not carry as much weight as it did before. As expected, Aro wondered how the situation could be turned to their advantage, Caius wanted to destroy whatever was threatening them, then ask questions, and Marcus, shattered and contrary, voiced a dissenting opinion when pressed.

Athenodora did not pay attention to their arguments, instead focusing on the reason behind them.

"Werewolves are real, then?" she asked her mate casually, after he had finished telling Aro exactly why and how he was wrong.

"You sound surprised."

"There were stories about them when I was a child."

"We're monsters from stories."

She conceded the point, then asked, "What are you planning to do?"

For a moment, he searched for words, then decided he was too frustrated to protect his mate. "Hunt and kill them," he replied.

He had not expected to see her eyes drain of light.

---

After spending all evening looking for her, Caius found Athenodora sitting on the roof, her eyes turned upwards, gazing at her beloved stars. She looked like a statue of a forgotten goddess, beauty and sadness clinging to her, and he was reminded of how broken she had been when he turned her into a vampire.

Not certain what he was about to say, he sat beside her. She slipped a finger onto his lips, silencing him.

"Listen to me," her voice was quiet and expressionless.

"You are Aro's fighter, and I understand that. Ask yourself, though, how many innocents you've murdered because he ordered it."

He tried to speak, but she continued, still eerily calm. "Don't tell me that the wolves you will hunt are nothing more than animals, and that their existence threatens our secrecy. We do more damage with our hunting than they do. You and Aro can hide behind words and explanations all you like, or you can admit that you kill for power or perhaps because you just enjoy it."

"And what would you do if I admitted it?" He was hissing now.

"There are a thousand reasons why I shouldn't love you. Don't give me another one," she replied, sudden fire flickering beneath the ice of her words. They stood up in almost perfect unison, eyes crimson, ready to tear at each others' throats or run away, or beg forgiveness.

Caius was the first to turn away, vanishing off the roof silently, the image of his mate silhouetted against the moon burned into his mind.

---

The guard left Volterra near dusk the next day. Though the forests and villages threatened by the _Children of the Moon_ (As Aro had so prettily named them) were far from Volterra, the guards simply ran, because horses refused to go near them, and it was more practical to run anyways.

The entire way, Caius moved blindly. He had never expected that the love and approval of one person could matter so much, and that its sudden absence could make him feel _dead_ for the first time in a thousand years. _Shut up! Now is not the time_, he reminded himself, trying to make the niggling little thing that just might have been his conscience be quiet.

Near sunrise, he pulled his hood lower over crimson eyes as he and twenty members of the guard entered a darkly serene forest.

* * *

_Reviews are lovely things._


	6. Chapter 6

**_Like Winter_**

**Fandom: **Twilight

**Characters/Pairings:** Caius/Athenodora

**Author's Note: **I apologize for this taking so long, and I really have no excuses. Hopefully this chapter is slightly better after being kept on the back-burner for six months. No AFI song reference again, because I listened to the album _Indestructible_ by Disturbed while writing this. The lyrics may not fit, but the mood does.

* * *

A dull sunrise crept into the forest, sulphurous light lazily filtering through the leaves. It was a dismal place, Caius concluded as apprehension crawled like spiders down his spine. The branches' creaking and the restless hiss of the wind were enough to muffle footfalls, while the damp stench of moss covered scents all too well.

Stifling a sigh, he cast a glance over the guard. They were young, little more than newborns with haphazard, underdeveloped gifts that Aro had somehow decided would be advantageous. Caius could not imagine any trick of the mind being particularly useful against giant wolves, but arguing with his brother in a whimsical mood was an impossible task. His thoughts cursed Aro before he abruptly stopped himself. There were more important things to worry about.

They were nervous. Every twitch and fidget riled him, because moonrise was hours away and already he had nothing more than frightened, gifted children around him. With a shuddering, unnecessary breath he faced the guard.

"You will stay silent and hidden until twilight. Then, you will fight. If you run, your lives are mine. Is that clear?" He met each pair of varyingly uncertain eyes for an instant. Their obedience was vying with apprehension, but he had no qualms about terrifying them into compliance.

Brushing too-pale hair out of his face, he slipped into the thick shadows cast by a gnarled oak. By now, he could smell at least five different wolves who had transformed nearby the previous evening.

_This is going to be a very long night_, he thought, and given the circumstances, decided that the observation was not melodramatic in the least.

-

Staring at the sun could still make Athenodora's eyes sting as the coppery brightness crawled in beneath her irises and tinted the world red. Somehow, it seemed right to feel physical pain; it complemented the raw throb of her emotions.

She was angry, and had been furious all day, expressing her rage in any and every way she could find. After demolishing some innocent vases, she had raised her voice at Sulpicia, who certainly had not deserved it, and then proceeded to snarl at Aro. A little part of her insisted that abusing her coven was not the appropriate way of coping, while the majority of her thoughts agreed that she'd do it again if given the chance.

Her mind had tied itself in knots—no, that was a lie. The tangles were around her heart.

Arguing with Caius came with the territory of loving him. She knew how strange it looked from the outside, seeing a couple who spent half their time together disagreeing. Nonetheless, their disputes had always been playful, unmemorable things that could be mended in minutes. The previous night was different; too few words had been exchanged, and too much hurt.

_I have every right to be angry with him_, her thoughts hissed, listing every petty vendetta of Aro's that Caius had upheld, thoughtlessly and viciously. There were moments when he frightened her, when absolutes like truth and justice were twisted until they became nothing more than words validating carnage.

She was lying to herself again, and momentary hatred flared. If she picked away at the scabs of her memories, she inevitably arrived at the same conclusion. No matter what Caius did, regardless of his brutality or his almost supernatural loyalty to Aro, she could not make herself feel anything but affection towards him. While her mind screamed that he was something worse than a murderer, that the exhilaration of battle and victory meant more to him than innocent lives, her heart (_adolescent and stupid and stubborn_) maintained that she loved him.

What kind of monster did that make her?

-

A full moon rose a few hours after sunset and Caius watched its path across the sky grimly. If his brother was correct, the mortals would begin transforming into wolves at any moment; he only hoped that they had the sense to leave their villages before their minds became those of beasts. Releasing the already edgy guard into a town full of innocent people would only lead to a massacre.

His planning was interrupted by the rustle of branches hastily snapping aside as someone tore through them. From different corners of the forest, he could hear footsteps, shallow breathing and the creaking of muscles and bones as humans metamorphosed into monsters.

A howl echoed through the nocturnal silence, then another answered it, a lonely, ominous sound. He stopped counting after the ninth wolf announced its presence, but the metallic taste of desperation was already rising in his mouth.

There were too many of them.

Resigned, he looked at the guard, wondering why hopeless, violent fights always managed to find him.

"Split up," he ordered, "Kill as many as you can. At daybreak, return here." Caius watched groups of two or three vampires run in different direction, and then he too vanished into the shadows, moving towards the howling.

-

Athenodora ran, ignoring the twigs that tore at the hated black cloak she had thrown around her shoulders. The scent of vampires was faint but still present; in her desperation, she could follow it easily. The pounding of her feet against dirt and stone set a rhythm, almost a heartbeat, and her mind echoed it. _Why are you doing this?_ The words whirled through her thoughts in dizzy circles.

She could not justify it to herself. She was running from her home after nightfall because—because she was worried about Caius? Because guilt was driving her? Because she needed to ask for forgiveness and, just once, stand beside him?

Those were not compelling reasons. The centuries-old immortal reminded herself that she would be a hindrance, that a battlefield was no place for apologies.

The girl had no response.

Athenodora ran harder.

-

Her first glimpse of the wolves was obscured by trees, but her breath caught nonetheless. There were three of them, easily the size of horses, their flanks and muzzles spattered with blood and marked with long scratches. They seemed to be playing, tearing at something that was once an arm with the enthusiasm of puppies with a bone. Disgust and relief flashed through her simultaneously. The mangled body belonged to a nameless, faceless member of the guard; the smell was too alien to be Caius'.

Despite the momentary comfort, fear spread through her, cold and certain as slow drowning. Athenodora did not know how to fight; instinct had always been enough when hunting humans.

_Why the hell am I doing this? I will end up dead_, the discouraged voice in her head murmured, frustrated and frightened.

_No. They will_. This thought, cool and savage, tore into her mind with perfect clarity.

-

The tawny wolf looked up first, baring its teeth at the intruder. When she did not move away, the animal sprang. Its mouth locked around her upraised arm, and a tilt of its head bent the limb into an unnatural angle. A grimace of pain flickered and vanished on her face, then her open palm connected with its belly as nails dug in deep and dragged through fur and muscle. The wolf threw back its head in a howl of agony, just as its world went dark. One hand had encircled its jaw, breaking it, while her other, injured fist came down clumsily on its skull.

Her fingers glistening crimson, the woman in black turned to face the other two wolves. There was no fear on her features, and no uncertainty. Instead, her lips were curved into a pretty, empty smile.

The two remaining beasts circled her, low growls slipping through clenched teeth. The gray wolf jumped, aiming for her throat. Moving with the ease of a nightmare, she snapped its neck and pushed the limp body out of her way. The smile widened just a little, almost reaching her eyes.

The last wolf watched and paced, something like caution in its movements. Too quickly to see, the vampire threw herself at it, nails and teeth tangling in its fur while claws raked down her face and arms. The animal caught her shoulder and bit, its jaws skidding on stone flesh. With a final, frantic effort, she half-pushed, half-threw the wolf off herself and crouched, preparing to spring again.

-

The moon set.

Incongruously, the transformation that damned the wolf was quiet, almost unremarkable. Without ceremony, a girl was standing in the place of the shaggy beast.

She was pale, naked and shivering as the cool dawn mist wove itself around her in chilly tendrils, almost disguising the blood that slicked her body from a lattice of fresh wounds. Her mouth was bent in a hiss, perhaps of rage or defiance, but most likely pain as her wild eyes darted in all directions. In a moment, Athenodora knew, she would begin screaming.

For an instant, they looked at each other, eerie reflections with crimson-matted hair and torn bodies, though the silvery creature was neither panting nor bleeding. One quick, balletic movement and a slender hand was at the wolf-girl's throat. A sudden, almost gentle twist and a body tumbled to the ground.

Athenodora licked blood off her fingers with a pale tongue, a look of impersonal curiosity on her face. It tasted bitter.

Something inside her squirmed, remembering mercy and the fact that she too had become a monster against her will. The thought was brushed aside easily. She no longer cared.

Turning on her heel, she followed the stench of wolf-blood through the trees. In the periphery of her vision, she could see heaps of what seemed to be white marble, though the illusion was shattered when she noticed the blue twists and ridges of sinew and veins. Stopping would not help; she was already gagging, and there was certainly not enough left of the guard to reassemble.

One by one, she found the mortals who had been wolves only minutes before. The first was lucky; she only broke his neck. Then she became creative, an expressionless ghost with ebony eyes, trying to relieve the hollow ache she could not name with teeth and nails and strength. There was fury in every movement, because the Children of the Moon had hurt her and most likely Caius, because they forced her to confront her own imperfections, because— then she was no longer thinking, and there was blood all over her snowy skin and the dewy grass.

-

* * *

I can't write action sequences at all, and it frustrates me. I watched _Underworld, Kill Bill vol. I, _and a few episodes of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_ to inspire myself, but now I just have the soundtracks stuck in my head.

I hope this chapter wasn't too strange and confusing. Reviews are love.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Like Winter**_

**Fandom: **Twilight

**Pairing:** Caius/Athenodora

* * *

Crimson-matted hair clung to Caius' face, cutting his vision into jagged shapes and edges. He raised a shaking hand to push the strands away and instead dropped to his knees, a string of hissed curses slipping out between clenched teeth. Deep, bruise-blue wounds were visible beneath the tattered remnants of his cloak, and his right arm hung stiffly by his side.

It hurt like hell—vast, unceasing and unimaginable. The pain edged its way into his skull, twisting and explosive, sending dull black dots skittering and swirling behind his eyes. The blade-sharp torment was meaningless—_absolutely nothing—_compared to the dull certainty that he had failed. Too many memories smoldered in his mind like a comet's tail, each bearing the scent of dirt, death and defeat. This was what he hated more than sacrifice and combat: the terrible, shuddering weakness of being brought to his knees.

His fingers digging into the ground, he counted the moments, waiting for the torture to end, as a silent scream clawed its way out of his throat. Corpses littered the forest's undergrowth, and the disciplined, dispassionate corner of his mind that remained untouched insisted that they should be burned.

_It'll pass_, Caius told himself as the bitter taste of bile filled his mouth. The wolf-blood he had swallowed throughout the night seared his tongue, and nausea spun his head. As the agony ebbed into a muted throb, surrender's helpless rage took hold. The snarling, caged creature of his anger had broken its bonds, wanting brutality and revenge, some semblance of justice in its warped, battle-mad mind. His thoughts twisted and crashed, willing his body to comply though he was too weak to stand.

As he struggled, he heard branches snap aside beneath impatient feet.

The only familiar aspect of the woman who appeared before him was the smell (_apricots and autumn masked by blood_). He had never thought of himself or his kind as walking corpses but the mosaic of bleached-bone pallor and crimson smeared across her face was enough to convince him otherwise.

"Athena?" he asked, in a voice cracked and dry as the desert. _Now you're hallucinating your mate_, his mind mocked, hating his own limitations.

"Your arm." Her tone was inflectionless as she pulled aside scraps of his cloak and almost clinically gazed at the tangle of sinew and shattered bone, which a wolf's teeth had torn from his shoulder.

"Can you walk?" she said in the same dead voice, and without waiting for a response, pulled him to his feet. Looping a shaking arm around his waist, she carried most of his weight. At an awkward, limping pace, she led him towards the west, in the direction of Volterra.

-

The pain had faded completely, leaving Caius' mind free to wander. Glancing at his mate's hand, he almost recoiled at the sight of jewel-bright blood, spattered from arteries torn beneath her nails. She was usually fastidious, as they all were, sanitizing feeding into something polite and civilized. The evidence of obvious cruelty was unnerving.

In the steely morning light, he could see corpses shadowed beneath the trees. Their wounds were open, and the smell of blood on their bodies echoed the metallic odour clinging to his mate's hair and cloak.

_Oh gods, what did she do?_, his impatient logic demanded, trying to count, to grasp at straws of reason in this strange, inverted dreamscape. He wanted to ask her, but the blackness of her irises and the odd, broken-marionette roughness of her movement indicated that she would not hear, much less answer.

-

Athenodora vanished as soon as the stone parapets of the ancient castle came into view, neither explaining nor faltering. Caius, left alone, entered through the main gates snarling at the guards who dared look at him for more than a moment. Immediately, he strode in the direction of Aro's study.

He had no excuses for his brother, no justification for an incomplete task or the death of so many guards. Instead, he directed his pounding, visceral rage at his elder sibling and leader.

"She could have died_,_" the pale vampire said calmly, though the torchlight made his face monstrous.

Aro's voice lacked its usual sweetness, perhaps because he knew that Caius would not appreciate it. "That would have been unfortunate. I knew nothing about your mate's departure."

"Do not lie. You see through the guards' eyes at the end of their watch. They saw her leave. _You knew._" His eyes were black.

"Where would you be if I had stopped her, Caius?"

"Aro…" he stopped for a moment, raking fingers through his hair, "You are my brother, and the first person who gave a damn about me. I fight for you, I kill for you and I do not mind dying for you." There was nothing but harsh, stumbling sincerity in his tone.

"I trust you," he continued, and Aro understood the weight behind that word. Caius did not trust easily, but once he did, he would walk through hell if it was asked of him.

Suddenly, in a motion too quick to see, he found himself pinned against the stone wall, Caius' callused hand at his throat. He could see the other vampire's mind, where the image of a woman with shimmering hair was prominent.

"But remember, brother," Caius hissed "_I am not Marcus."_

_If anything happens to her, you will be ash, then I will ask questions, _his thoughts supplied, knowing that Aro could hear the threat. He left the room in a swirl of torn cloak, not glancing back.

-

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Caius' words were barely distinguishable, masked by a savage snarl.

Athenodora was silent, sitting on a chair in her bloody clothes, staring at nothing.

"How could you do that? You could have died, you wouldn't have helped, why the hell did you even consider—" He cut himself off abruptly. Screaming at his mate was reminiscent of rage directed at a broken doll; it was ineffective and vaguely unnerving to lecture a still, hollow-eyed facsimile.

He stalked out of the room to wash the stench of wolves off his skin, his mate's empty gaze infringing upon the corners of his mind.

-

It was almost dawn when he returned and found Athenodora sitting on their bed, looking into the gray-blue stillness of the lightening sky. Her eyes were the weary colour of blood and rust now, and an echo of life had returned to her features.

He sat down beside her and wrapped his fingers around hers, a tentative bridging of an abyss. She did not pull away.

"Listen, I'm sorry," he offered.

"I know." The reply was quiet, but there were hints of Athenodora peeking through the stiff mask.

"Please, don't do that again. You don't need to save me," he said.

"Yes, I do."

He almost smiled. As soon as his wife began contradicting him, he knew that she was going to be fine.

"I need you, Athena. I'd be a liar if I said I didn't. I can't move—I can't think if I know you're in danger. You have no idea how frightening that is."

"It's how I feel every time you leave. And when you come back, you're different," she murmured.

That stopped him. There was no way to counter the note of raw, shivering pain in her voice.

"I don't blame you. I killed _so many people_—" she was gasping as she said it, as though the words stung as much as blows. "I hurt them, and it didn't matter to me. I was_ happy_. I didn't have orders to do it, and—oh gods, I'm so much worse than you could ever be."

Caius immediately wrapped his arm around her shaking form, trying to hold together the jagged pieces of her grief.

"You're not," he whispered.

"You're trying to be kind," Athenodora said gently. "And I'm grateful. I can't do it—I won't fight again, Cai. Please, don't let me."

He nodded wordlessly because, for once, he understood that nothing could make that feeling vanish: the cold, grim certainty that damnation was assured, the conviction that the final, arbitrary line in the sand between existence and hell had been overstepped.

Speech carried no comfort; instead, he buried his lips in her blood-stiff hair and held her close, the way he wished someone had cradled him when he believed himself to be a soulless creature, years ago. Their embrace was an awkward thing, where two people with shattered arms and deep wounds tried to press close to each other, biting back hisses of pain.

"You'll be alright," Caius said after a while, uncertain whom he was trying to convince. He was injured and furious, his coven had been decimated, he had just threatened Aro and killed more werewolves than he could count. Everything was so far from simply _alright_ and yet… holding her made it better. Not much better, certainly, but he experienced peace that he knew he had no right to feel.

"You're lovely, even covered in wolf's blood, but do you want to go wash?" he asked, brushing a kiss over her shoulder. Athenodora glanced at him, and a hint of a smile quirked the corner of her mouth.

"I think I'll go terrorize Sulpicia a bit. She'll be appalled at the proximity of my grubby hands to her nice furniture."

She disentangled herself from his embrace and ghosted away. The grace and sharpness had returned to her motions and her voice, but there were shadows in her eyes, the sort that could not be erased.

* * *

**Author's Tirade:** I don't particularly like the fandom's assumption that Athenodora and Sulpicia never leave the tower because they are oppressed, delicate and female. Instead, I decided that Athenodora has some semblance of a moral code, and well thought-out reasons for not fighting, instead of simple ineptitude. Fighting brings out sadistic elements of her personality, and she can't live with herself knowing that she causes suffering and enjoys it. Therefore, her strategy is to avoid violence as much as possible.

Also, writing Caius/Athenodora hurt/comfort is either the most entertaining or most awkward thing _ever_. I can't quite decide.

As always, reviews are much appreciated :).


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